


To Hunt

by bravevesperian



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence, Multiple Orgasms, Obsession, Rough Sex, obsession as seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 12:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18756649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bravevesperian/pseuds/bravevesperian
Summary: It always happens, and it always happens the same. He runs, he chases, and then they collide.





	To Hunt

It was an old game now, one practiced more times than he could count. One would think that someone as famously disinterested by nearly everything would be tired of it by now--but he wasn't. It always started the same way: with the destruction of something good. Another village razed, another silken throat crushed beneath his boot. 

That was nearly all it took to summon his beloved to his side. 

And it was so little a thing, so simple, so easy-- _too easy_. It was all too easy these days-- he had forgotten where his mind ended and the obsession began. He supposed it didn't matter. Heart beats were only the flutter of a road sparrow's wings. 

The smoke on the wind was acrid to the eyes and mouth, distasteful even for someone so used to the fires of destruction. His glass blue eyes fluttered shut only for a moment, and that was when he appeared, laden by the weight of his soul and his weapon. 

It wasn't like it used to be. The Warrior of Light stood and looked at him, seeming so much smaller in form now. Desire crept up the monster's spine; and a monster was what he was. He knew this better than anyone, that he was only a hunter seeking his prey. 

The wind caught his hair, whipping honey gold strands around as they stepped toward each other amid the desolation, and the chase began. 

Though they clashed here and there, like sparks winding through the blackest night-- they just as quickly separated. From the carnage, into the wilds one chased the other. The clashes continued first with steel and then with skin, and gods _why_? What was wrong with him? How could he let him close like this? He was trapped in the moment that he had asked him to accept him, and the memory of hot blood splattered on his face and chest.

It would have been better if he had stayed dead.

There was nothing like the twisted, heavy plate armor he had once worn to separate them. When the collision happened, it was one of leather and cloth just barely separating the solid clash of skin, muscle and bone. It wasn't all at once, but it only took once to electrify them. They had wound up somehow inside of an old facility once used for magitek research. It was dusty, now all but considered some haunted and accursed place. 

In the hulking shadows of ugly experimental machinery fallen to disuse, the Warrior of Light crouched. Why he hid, his pursuer could not tell. A trill in his chest hoped he did it because he knew he loved the chase: it was all for him. The hood he hid himself in fell back, releasing the mane of honey golden hair he had tried to keep hidden all to no avail as he strode through the shadows over the smooth, but cracking mosaic tiles beneath him. There was no hiding his movements, no care in the way he walked. No matter what he did, he would flush his prey from its hiding place. He could sense him, feel the cacophony of agony in his heart. 

He could feel it beating in the very tremors on the air. In the places between seconds. 

"My friend," He breathed softly-- though it offered little warning for his next movement.

Into the shadows between two capsules that had once been used to siphon the life-Aether out of unwitting victims, his hand shot with the speed of a snake striking. A yelp rewarded him with another thrill that went down his spine, straight to his groin. That was something he could think about later. For now, he was concerned with the lovely form twisting in his grip, gasping for the panic gripping him.

He dragged the captured form from its hiding place to reveal the object of his desire to his eyes. 

A slender, well-muscled thing the Warrior of Light was-- he must be, after all. The long road had sculpted him into something beautiful: a machine of war almost as perfect as Zenos himself. 

"Zenos--" The gasp came like music to his ears, enough to nearly make him moan aloud. 

"I am here, my dearest." Came his response as he tightened his grip hard enough to bruise the arm he had managed to snag. 

A sudden blow to the side of his head, missed in his euphoria, made him see stars long enough for his prize to slip his grasp. Oh, how he loved it when he fought this hard. It was nearly like the old days. It was enough to get his blood boiling. 

Zenos stumbled and wheeled as his quarry attempted to flee, only to be set upon by the crown prince on all fours.They tumbled over each other for a moment in a wild and bloody mess, wrestling hand-to-hand until their hips settled together and neither could hide their arousal any longer. 

It was a moment of pure delight when Zenos laughed, and so did the Warrior of Light. Neither of them knew when this had become a game rather than a life and death struggle, or when it had become _this_ , whatever it was. The when and how didn't matter, only the feeling of the man beneath him twisting his fingers into his hair and rolling his hips. 

Zenos had asked for acceptance; maybe even begged for it, and he had received it. 

He seemed so small beneath him like this, sprawled out on the smooth, dusty stone illuminated by shafts of light from the world outside that seemed so far away. Was there anyone at all left, anyway? Zenos couldn't remember. Nothing else in the world existed save for them. 

Their mouths came together in a wild kiss, all teeth and tongue. There was no battle for dominance, only hunger-- a hunger that consumed everything between them. Leather ties and straps and lovely linens, tarnished by long days on the road came apart beneath calloused fingers, and Zenos dipped his head to taste his skin. A trail of sharp nips that left welts behind brought him to the juncture of the Warrior of Light's legs, and he slipped his soft brushed-leather trousers down to free the erection standing there--for him, all for him. 

Those hands wound into the crown prince's long hair, and he obediently allowed the Warrior of Light to fuck his mouth, gasping and trembling for the knowledge that he could have this side of him that none of his other many friends and acquaintances could. Had he killed them all yet, he wondered? Zenos had lost count. 

Zenos waited for him to cum, and it didn't take long so high on adrenaline-- and then immediately pushed his fingers inside of him, curling and prodding. There was no rest, no reprise, no separation from the violence they exchanged in other encounters. The Warrior of Light's cries echoed from the cavernous walls as Zenos tortured him, watching him writhe and cry. It only made him more pliable for when he replaced his fingers with something much larger a few moments later. 

Still tasting the salty bitterness of his release on his tongue, Zenos kissed the smaller man again and swallowed up his cries as he began to fuck him ruthlessly, clutched tightly against him. He held to him like he was afraid he'd get away or disappear, though there was no fighting going on anymore. No-- quite the opposite, he was jerking himself roughly as Zenos' brutal thrusts drove him wild, desperate for another release despite the over stimulation. 

"You're so beautiful like this, if only you could see yourself. I wonder if you know, oh-- you must know how much I want you, I _must_ have you-- won't you be mine and mine alone?" His words were a jumble between grunts and moans. Zenos had never been one to hold back, especially in moments like this. Why should he? Who would dare to judge him? Why not sing his pleasure for his lover, for who alive could call him lesser for it?

Seeing the Warrior of Light's face paint smudged with tears was a sight that never ceased to leave Zenos insatiable. Usually so unmovable, he _trembled_ as he came inside of him. There was a spark of something tender as he leaned down and kissed his wet cheeks-- and then continued to fuck him, because _what else was there_? 

Thunder rolled outside and sweat slicked their skin as the pair shifted and moved, the Warrior of Light now straddling Zenos' hips as he chased another elusive orgasm through the haze of pain and pleasure. Zenos' hair was sunlight through a glass of Honey Yard whiskey fanned out on the floor beneath them. He hated him, and he couldn't hate him, and he wanted him just like he knew _he wanted him_ \--

And "Zenos, please," and "Zenos, _harder_ ," -- A mess and tangle of words lost themselves in repetition as the crown prince's long fingers moved over his chest, rubbing at a nipple-- enough to send him suddenly spilling over onto Zenos' chest and stomach again. 

They were creatures outside of time, maddened by the poison of obsession coursing through them. There was no beginning and no end. No other living being could ever satisfy the other. There was no equal among men to be found, no one who could live for the moments between seconds as they could. 

As two men unaware of their own limits, they knew only how to crash into them and become nothing but burning wreckage. In this way, when they were totally and utterly spent, they lay curled around each other heaving for breath and teetering on the edge of consciousness. When they awoke, one of them would have dressed and vanished and the chase would begin again. 

It was always that way, always the same wild euphoria. It burned and would burn until it burned everything around it, even the very world, to its foundations.


End file.
